


operation: shovel talk

by meingottlieb



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 2018), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Slight Canon Divergence, disney can't stop the homo duck agenda, how the three caballeros got together, listen all of these ducks are gay unless stated otherwise, pretty dialogue heavy and schmoopy as hell, scrooge is so Tired (TM), some drakepad and weblena on the side of course, the kids all lose their minds over donald having boyfriends, triplet (and webby) antics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 11:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meingottlieb/pseuds/meingottlieb
Summary: A trip abroad leaves Donald Duck with not one, but two loud, musical, strange boyfriends.The boys freak out.*          *         *"Long distance? Long distancewhat?""Relationship, Dewey."





	operation: shovel talk

**Author's Note:**

> when new ducktales eps are coming out, we're on lockdown. gay ducks only, 24/7. don't talk to me unless it's about ducktales (2017), i'm not interested. (i can't believe i wrote ducktales fic instead of my thesis. what have i become. i've lost control of my life. GAY DUCKS.)

**operation: shovel talk**

For the triplets, the idea that their Uncle Donald had not one boyfriend but _ two _was difficult to adjust to. 

Their entire lives, Donald had been too busy working or nagging them to death to date, and even then, Donald never exactly shown much interest. Hoping to score free pastries under promise of matchmaking, Louie had once come up with a physical _ list _ of single moms in their elementary school PTA that had put the moves on their Uncle Donald, and never once had Donald acknowledged the frequent flirty looks or accepted the not-so-casual requests for coffee. After a while, the boys had just assumed their uncle wasn’t interested in dating or romance, period, and for another five years, that belief went unchallenged. 

So when they met Panchito and José, two colorful, musical, and _ loud _ friends from Donald’s past, they weren’t exactly expecting an entire day full of their uncle blushing and laughing and flirting his tail off like it was an Olympic sport. (Even more unexpected was Uncle Scrooge’s reaction to the display, as if it were a familiar and annoying sight he was tired of seeing repeated). They didn’t recognize the carefree, extroverted duck their uncle became in front of their eyes; that it happened in moments with strangers they’d never even heard the _ names _of was insanity.

(They hadn’t even realized their uncle _knew_ how to flirt; it had taken a hot debate and a wily bet from Webby to even convince Dewey that Donald wasn’t just ‘reddening’ in the warm sun and ‘just happy to see old friends’. "We’re just not used to seeing him hang out with actual friends!” Dewey’d argued, and while that was true too, there was no denying Donald’s fluster when the strange birds showered Donald in compliments and chaste cheek-kisses, or the foreign, amused look on their uncle’s face when he paid those back in kind.)

The _ Tres Caballeros _ reunion had left the boys with more than just a revised idea of their uncle and his romantic past: they were also dealing with the idea that Panchito and José were about to get a lot more involved in their lives than they were before. Before flying home in the Sunchaser after their battle with mutant, aggressive plant life, the rooster and the macaw had pulled their uncle off to the side for a private discussion, and Webby’s dutiful spying had discovered that the meeting was less of a goodbye, and more of a beginning.

_("They told him they loved him!” _ Webby’d hissed, her voice so ecstatically pitched that it was nearly supersonic. Huey had gaped and swooned, slumping bodily against the Sunchaser’s iron hull and reaching for his Junior Woodchuck smelling salts, and Dewey and Louie had collapsed bonelessly into a pile of parachutes and munitions. “_Love!_ Like, _ in _ love with him! _Love_ love! And that they wanted to stay in touch and_ try long distance!” _Her voice had peaked at a glass-shattering shriek.

_"What?!"_ Louie had yelled. "They haven't seen him in like ten years and now they want to be _exclusive?"_

“Long distance?” Dewey's echo had been dumbstruck, as if he had been whacked on the head with a baseball bat. “Long distance _what?"_

"Relationship, Dewey,” their uncle'd said suddenly, appearing out of nowhere to interrupt their hysterical pow-wow with red flooding his cheeks. To be fair, they weren’t exactly subtle; the Sunchaser was a relatively small plane, in terms of conspiring space. Huey had swooned again, wilting into Webby’s arms, and Dewey and Louie had pelted him with questions that left their uncle spluttering and indignant: “Of course I've _dated_ before!”; “They’re not _strangers_, Louie, I’ve known them since before you were born!”; “I’m not cursed, Dewey. Stop chanting in pig Latin!”)

Long story short, their lives were seemingly upended in one evening, but in actuality, little changed afterward. Panchito and José still had business abroad, so they didn’t exactly move back to Duckburg and into Uncle Donald’s tiny houseboat—or take Uncle Donald on a grand reunion tour with them, like the boys had each quietly, individually feared. The only real change was that Donald now spent some time on the manor’s computer, typing instant messages and occasionally chatting online in a broken mixture of hoarse English, Spanish, and Portuguese. (Huey was also now demanding Donald tutor him in the two languages so he could expand his knowledge and talk to them as well, to Donald’s amusement and visible fondness.)

But now, Panchito and José were finally coming in for a visit, and their uncle was being a nervous weirdo. Cleaning and cleaning and cleaning the boat, staying up late at night, dragging them to buy some half decent authentic ingredients for Spanish foods and being altogether _ more _ awkward than he ever was before. Louie thought it was exasperating, Huey thought it was strange, and Dewey didn’t know _ what _ to do with a Donald Duck in love. He _ hummed! _ All the time! Sure, Donald was wont to huff and mumble and putter when he was distracted— a habit the boys had picked up in their own tailored ways—but now the guy was practically singing as he floated from room to room in the mansion, and Scrooge kept _ scoffing. _

Webby, however, thought it was the cutest thing she’d ever seen, and wouldn’t shut up about it. That was embarrassing for the boys too, but for different reasons. This was their _ uncle. _They didn’t need to wonder about his mushy thoughts no matter how "sweet" (said Webby, gushing), or "twitterpated" (quoting a mocking Scrooge) he was being.

But even they couldn’t deny how much happier their uncle seemed, even with just mild communication from some mysterious strangers abroad, and guilt crept in with that too.

("Do you think Uncle Donald didn’t date...because of us?” Dewey had asked once in the quiet of their bedroom, after the boys had overheard an international phone call across the hall that had ended with ‘I miss you’s that sounded more pained than soppy.

“Maybe,” Huey had said, voice anxious. “But that’s not our fault, right? And better late than never, I mean, we’re teenagers now, so maybe he thinks it’s okay?”

“Whatever,” Louie had whispered, turning to frown into his pillow. “So long as they don’t break his heart or something, who cares?” His forced nonchalance hadn’t convinced his brothers, even in the dark.)

Panchito and José arrive with lots of fanfare, and small, tasty presents for the boys and Webby from abroad. The gifts had been received gratefully, but weren’t sweet enough to cast away doubtful eyes: the children had all made a pact the night before they’d arrived in Duckburg—Operation Shovel Talk. Step one, find out more about the two strangers who stole their uncle’s heart; step two, evaluate their intentions and make sure they’re legit (and make sure they’re not jerks who’ll take up all of Donald’s time/spirit him away with their Latine charms); and step three, make them promise to never, ever hurt their Uncle Donald under pain of torture and banishment to the Shadow Realm (Webby’s suggestion).

Things are going...sort of well. Getting José and Panchito to open up about their feelings about Uncle Donald, as it turns out, isn’t the hard part. Getting them to _ shut up _is shaping up to be, though.

“That’s our Donal’,” José says, for the third time that day. Donald waves him off with a sheepish laugh, handing him a plate of beef empanadas. (They didn’t know their Uncle even _ knew _ how to make Spanish food.) “So _ thoughtful_. You didn’t need to spend money on us, _ meu amor."_

“It wasn’t that much,” Donald says, smiling fondly, and half under the picnic table set up in the manor’s back garden, Louie fakes a hurl.

“Empanadas always remind me of when we first met, José," Panchito muses, sipping calmly on a lemonade from where he sits next to Dewey. “Though, the ones we ate on the road were a little spicier than these. Nothing like home-grown flavors from home--these are delicious though, Donald, don’t look at me like that!”

“Food has always been a staple of our relationship,” José hums sagely, and Donald snorts over his plate.

“That and music,” Panchito says, miming a strum of his guitar, and Donald and José both make soft noises of agreement.

“So,” Webby says lightly, eyes keen when she sets her head innocently on her palms, elbows propped on the table. “The world has to know, you guys—who fell in love with who first?”

Panchito lets out a low whistle, grinning, and José smiles, fondness spilling across his face. “_Dios mio_,” he says, chuckling. “The world has to know, do they?” Webby nods eagerly, head bobbing at breakneck speed, and Panchito tips back his sombrero-ed head to laugh.

“Ahh, _ minha querida,"_ José says. The green macaw gets to his feet to help Donald in cleaning up their makeshift picnic. “Chito and I, we have been together for a long time. Since we first lay eyes on each other, no?” His tawny eyes seem to glow from within as they swivel to meet Panchito's, leaning his head. “We were young. Foolish, too—at least I was. I was traveling up the coast of Brazil, just a teenager. Running from my foster home.” José shakes his head at the children listening, wiping his hands and sitting back down next to Chito on the marble garden seat. “I made money singing in bars, barely enough _ dinheiro _ to pay for rides and places to lay my head. By the time I made it to _ México, _ I was...a little in over my head.” Panchito snorts indelicately and gets a chiding elbow. “I owed a tavern owner for...drinks, and as it turns out, so did someone else.” He smirks, tilting his head to the rooster with his arm around his waist _ . _

“I owed a bit more than money for drinks,” Panchito says, red feathers lifting in amusement. “I borrowed some money for him to start my career as Mexico’s most talented musician, of course.” He puffs out his chest, smile cheeky as the triplets and Webby giggle. “The man charged _ loco _ interest, it was completely unfair. We both ended up thrown out of the bar by our collars and this one, he landed on top of me, and well... _ es flechazo._” José huffs, shoving lightly at Chito’s arm with a hint of pink beneath the deep green of his feathers.

“Love at first sight,” Webby echoes, sighing longingly, “That’s so romantic.”

“He was heavy, too,” Panchito says, and Donald reaches out to flick him on the beak as he passes by, taking the free seat on José’s other side.

“This is why he’s my favorite,” José says, leaning over to kiss Donald’s cheek in thanks, and Panchito pouts.

“It was your _ pasíon _ that won me over,” he says quickly, pleading, “_Fue tu ardor! _ When you tried to charge in there and get your things from the back, _ ahh_, I was lovestruck.” José rolls his eyes, a smile curling at his mouth as Panchito pecks at his cheek. “You got us both chased all the way to the border when you snuck in to steal—er, get your week’s pay. It was our first adventure.”

“The first of many,” José agrees.

“Wow,” Dewey says, “So you just...travelled together after that?”

“Ever since.” José’s smile goes soft. Beside him, Panchito breathes out a low, content hum, tipping his head and looking across at José’s with naked affection in his dark eyes. “Meeting him was the best thing that ever happened to me. Next to meeting your _ tio.”_

“Ohh, gosh,” Donald groans, blushing. “Don’t you start.”

“How did you meet Uncle Donald?” Huey asks eagerly.

“We had ended up in Spain after a—” Panchito coughs as a sharp green elbow strikes again at his ribs, “Er, after a small disagreement with a traveling circus owner and the Salvadoran authorities. Your _ tio _was already in the American Navy by then and stationed in Madrid, studying for his degree, and we met him at a college bar where I was doing gigs. It was, what’s the word—kismet?”

“Who fell first?” Louie asks, smirking. “Probably Donald, right?”

“I did-”

“I did.”

Donald blinks, and José and Panchito both narrow their eyes at one another. 

“_I _was the one who suggested—” José began.

“_I _asked him out first—”

“I was standing right beside you! You asked my permission first!”

“I pointed him out! He was singing karaoke—I _ loved _ his voice—and I said, ‘Zé, look at the duck singing, _ es lindo’—” _

“I hit on him first,” José interrupts smugly, pointing a finger. “He was wearing that uniform, _ tão bonito, _and was so red after he got off stage you could see his feathers shake, it was precious—”

“I _ kissed _him first!” Panchito cries, and the triplets squawk in unison, with Louie groaning out loud. Webby squeals as José reels back, hand to his chest as if he’d been struck.

“Donal’!” he gasps. _ “Isso é verdade? _ I thought it was me—later that week!_” _

"Ooooh, only a week, Uncle Donald?" Dewey says, and Louie laughs.

Donald, at this point, is as red as a tomato. “I—” he splutters. “I don’t—you two were _ very _persistent—”

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember,” Panchito says, affronted. “It was so sweet! We were dancing in the moonlight... Zé was getting us drinks and you were _ so _ nervous, _ mi amor._..I had to make a move, or you would have slipped away.”

“Not at_ La Rosa Polvorienta?_” José asks, disbelieving. Panic crosses Donald’s face, sliding across a scarlet bill. “Donal’! _ I _ kissed you that night, when Chito was doing his set! You kissed us _ both? _ And me _ second? Meu Deus, _my reputation!” Webby and Huey collapse into giggles as Louie and Dewey gag, and Donald puts his head in his hands.

“You didn’t!” Panchito squawks. “While I sang? And I didn’t see? How unfair—”

“I didn’t know what I was doing!” Donald protests loudly, head jerking up. “You both cornered me! So _ flirtatious _ and confident and—I wasn’t even sure you two were together!" His shoulders slump. "Or that you weren’t both just, ohh, I don’t know, teasing the American or having some weird competition. I was overwhelmed! But—I _ liked _ you both and thought...if I had a chance with either of you I had to...” He trails off, voice strangling in his embarrassment, and Panchito _ ‘awww’s’. _ The rooster gets to his feet to circle his partners and forcibly scooches Donald over on the cramped seat, trapping the flushed duck between himself and the grinning José.

“I knew you were nervous for a reason! You thought we were _ teasing _ you, oh, _ mi amor—” _

“_Meu pato timido,” _José says, peppering Donald’s red cheek with kisses. Donald cranes his neck to look upwards and away, too mortified to meet anyone's eyes. “You never told us! We would have explained it to you if you’d asked, poor boy.”

“You both fell in love with him on the same night?” Louie demands. “While Uncle Donald was singing _ karaoke? _Are we talking about the same person here?”

“_Sim, _ why not? Your _ tio _has a beautiful voice. He sings from the heart, even when he is scared to be heard."

"You could say I have a type for the brave and passionate," Panchito brags.

The boys stare uncomprehendingly at the genuine love pouring from their uncle’s partners as Donald groans again. _ This might be all they need to check off step one of the operation,_ the kids say to each other in silent glances. _ This kinda stuff can’t be faked. _

“Okay, okay," Donald says, plowing through awkwardness with a rueful smile and shaking his head. "I think you’ve embarrassed me enough in front of the kids today.”

"We're scarred for life," Louie agrees. "The image of Uncle Donald being seduced by two different guys in the Spanish moonlight will haunt me forever." Dewey nods as Huey scrunches his face, and Webby lets out another long, willowy sigh.

"See what I mean? You're humiliating me for nothing, the last thing these kids wanna hear is details about my love life." He frowns briefly as the boys let out a series of disjointed coughs.

Unperturbed, José shakes his head. “Why should the truth be embarrassing?” he asks, smiling indulgently. “You cast a spell on us both,_ meu coração, _first with your voice, and in Madrid, you swept us both away. It broke our hearts when you finished school and you were shipped out.”

“...Yeah,” Donald says, sighing heavily. “It broke mine too. Ten months felt like forever until we met again in Havana.”

Chito squeezes the duck’s shoulder, turning to the children. “We were _ desanimado _ . But in Havana...your _ tio. _He left the Navy for us.”

“He _ did? _” Huey says, eyes huge. Dewey and Louie gape as their uncle looks away from their stunned eyes, a small, self-conscious smile on his face.

“He gave up the sea for us,” José says, voice gentle. “His first love. We knew we had to keep him then. We couldn’t let him go. We were the _ Tres Caballeros _from then on, singing our way across the world. Fighting sorceresses, getting into trouble.”

"_Sorceresses?" _Dewey says, eyes boggling in his skull.

“Keeping you two _ out _of trouble,” Donald corrects, skillfully ignoring his nephew, and José laughs.

“_Sim, meu amor, _keeping us out of trouble.”

“_Nuestro caballero enojado_,” Panchito teases.

“Oh my _ gosh, _ ” Webby says, practically whimpering. Her eyes glitter. “That’s. So. _ Sweet.” _

“I guess,” Louie says, begrudgingly.

“I can’t believe you’re such a romantic, Uncle Donald,” Huey says, mildly impressed. 

“Neither can we,” José quips, and Donald scoffs loudly, working his way out of their grip with cheeks pink and getting to his feet. 

“Alright, alright, you’re killing me here,” he huffs. “Help me take all this stuff back inside, kids.”

“Yes, Uncle Donald,” the boys and Webby say in unison, smiling at each other, and look back to the red and green birds who watch their uncle walk away, smiling fondly.

“Okay. So we’re good on step one, right?” Dewey whispers urgently, arms full of dirty paper plates.

“Too good. More than I ever wanted to know,” Louie complains. “They’re _ way _in love with him. It’s embarrassing.”

“So? Step two?” Huey asks, voice hushed.

“You know it,” Dewey says. “They’re crazy about him. And Donald left the _ Navy _for them! We have to make sure this doesn’t get too out of hand.”

“How do we do that?” Louie demands. “Make ‘em all sign a contract promising not to disappear into the Spanish sunset? Dude!”

“I still don’t get why this step is necessary,” Webby says. “You _ know _your Uncle would never leave you guys. Not even for the loves of his life!”

“Ugh, don’t say that,” Dewey says, agonized, and ducks his head down when Donald turns back at the volume of his voice. “That's almost worse! What if that’s what he _ wants _to do? He didn’t exactly have a choice, getting stuck with us and having to stay home while these handsome musician dudes in love with him go off on romantic adventures without him!”

“Dewey,” Webby starts, concerned, but Louie cuts her off.

“Why _ didn’t _ they stay?” he says, voice suddenly sharp with anger. “Do they not love Uncle Donald that much? He left the Navy for them and they couldn’t stay because he had _ kids?” _He shoves a jar of salsa back into the fridge and slams the door, making Donald squawk at him from back out on the patio about being careful.

“I don’t know,” Huey says doubtfully. “They don’t seem like that...”

“We have to find out,” Dewey says firmly. “We’re a package deal. Uncle Donald gave up story romance for us, and if they can’t stay put just because they’re free spirits or whatever, then they’re not partner material!”

“Dewey,” Webby says, strained. “You can’t just _ decide _whether or not your Uncle dates them—”

“No, but we _ can _ expose them if they’re only in this for the- for the '_pasion’ _!” Louie snaps, looking torn between anger and disgust. “Donald is an all or nothing duck, and we’re non-negotiable—so either they in it for the long haul or they’re out!”

“Can you imagine a heartbroken Uncle Donald?” Huey says, hands coming to his face in distress. “He’d be _insane_. We can’t let that happen!”

“We can’t make their relationship permanent either!” Webby protests. “You guys, they’re _nice_ and they clearly love your uncle, and he loves _ them. _Isn’t that enough?”

“No!” the boys cry together, and Webby sighs.

“Fine,” she says, resigned.

“Initiate phase two!” Dewey says, lifting a fist. “Divide and conquer!”

“I have José!" Huey says, and Louie coolly straightens his hoodie.

“The rooster’s mine.”

“Webby,” Dewey says gravely. “We’re on Donald’s distraction team. Do you accept your duty to his family or what?”

Webby looks briefly stricken, before resolution solidifies her features into stone. “Aye aye,” she says determinedly, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it. “Let’s do it.”

“What are you guys doing?” A loud voice rumbles, making all of them squeak and jump apart. They look up to see Launchpad towering over them, beak and hands full of empanadas, and watch as the pilot swallows noisily. “Something cool? By the way, these empanadas?” LP smacks his beak, slamming down another beefy folded triangle with uncomfortable ease. “Are something else. I didn’t know Donald could cook like this! I’ve gotta make my brownie recipe sometime and get him to try it.”

“We’re just, uh,” Dewey stammers quickly, “Gonna try to convince Uncle Donald to take us and his uh...boyfriends to the movies tonight. They’re having a Duckvengers marathon screening?”

“A Duckvengers marathon?!” LP gasps, his tall bill dropping open. “_Dude!_ Duckvengers 2: Age of Steelbill is like, my second favorite movie! We have to go! Dewey, can I bring a plus-one? Please, please, please?”

“I—uh,” Dewey says, blanking as his lie stumbles over the guilt of Launchpad’s excitement.

“Who’d be your plus one?” Louie asks, squinting. “Everybody you know is already going.”

“Well, _ almost _ everyone,” LP says, chipper. “But my boyfriend _ loves _superhero movies. It’s our favorite pastime!”

Dewey makes a strangled, hacking noise, and Huey chokes on a sip of lemonade.

“_Boyfriend?” _Webby squeals, looking delighted, and Louie struggles to pick up his jaw.

“I can’t believe this,” he mutters, staring uncomprehendingly at LP’s happy, expectant expression.

“I- I didn’t know you had a-” Dewey clears his throat, graduating from a croak to a rasp. “Why didn’t you mention him before, LP? I thought I was your best friend?”

“Of course you’re my best friend!” Launchpad says, looking offended that such a truth could even be called into question. “This boyfriend thing is kinda..._ new, _but it’s going great!” LP’s eyes seem to shine brighter than their normal, joyful luminosity. “I was getting kinda nervous about coming up with an idea for our next date, but a superhero movie marathon is perfect, little dude! Thanks, Dewey! I’ll text Drake now and see if he’s free!”

LP twirls on a boot and strides away, taking out a cell phone with a broad, eager smile on his face, and the children all turn to each other in varying stages of disbelief.

“Dude,"Dewey says. His voice is broken, and his eyes are unseeing. “What is happening to my life? First my Uncle, now my best friend? Is this a conspiracy?! A boyfriend conspiracy?!” His hands come up to fist in the feathers lining his skull, and Huey pats his shoulder comfortingly, shaking his head in sympathetic disbelief.

“Dude. Launchpad? _ Really?” _ Louie says incredulously. “_Who _ would- _ Launchpad? _ Where would that guy even _ meet— _I swear on the Money Bin, if Uncle Scrooge has a freaking boyfriend too, I am going to lose my mind!”

“Don’t jinx it, dude,” Huey says, dazed. “You never know.”

“Aww,” Webby says, looking guilty. “Poor Launchpad. I hope he and his boyfriend come up with something else to do when they realize there is no superhero movie marathon.”

“Beakflix and chill?” Louie offers with shaky sarcasm, head in his hands, and Dewey lets out a wail.

“_Why? _Why would you say that?”

“What do you think boyfriends do, Dewey?!”

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up, my _ brain _ is going to _ melt! Erase, erase— _”

“We can’t go down that road!” Huey pleads. “We need to focus!”

“It’s not my fault everyone in our lives has mysterious romances!” Louie cries. Beside him, Webby turns a vibrant shade of pink, and he turns on her. “Oh my god, _ what__?”_

“Um,” she says quietly, the pink spreading from her cheeks down her neck. “When you say...uh, _ mysterious romances_—”

“Everybody knows about you and Lena, dude,” Louie deadpans, and she laughs hysterically, eyes going huge.

“_Oh, _ uh, right.” Her voice shrinks, going weak. “_Sure_. Of course you guys...all...totally knew.”

“You’ve been dating like, a _ year _now,” Huey says. “How’s that mysterious?”

“We haven’t been dating for a year!” Webby says, voice skyrocketing through several pitches. “Only since she got back from the Shadow Realm!”

“That recently?” Dewey asks, eyebrows rising up to his baseball cap. “Wow. You guys are slow. We’ve had a bet going on since like, the subway incident.”

_ “Hey!” _

“I win, by the way. Louie, you owe me five bucks!”

“We’re losing focus again!” Huey moans, fingers pinching the bridge of his beak, and collectively, Webby and the boys sigh loudly.

“_Boys! Webby!” _Donald’s voice cuts across the kitchen from outside. “What are you kids up to, yelling in there?”

“Nothing, Uncle Donald!” they chorus, and they hear Donald’s telltale skeptical warbling.

“We _ need _to enact phase two,” Louie hisses. “We can investigate Launchpad later!”

“How about never,” Huey offers, and Dewey shoots him a dirty look. “Okay, okay, we’ll make a new operation!”

“Phase _ two,"_ Dewey hisses. “Go!”

* * *

Phase two goes...poorly. Pretty much immediately. Turns out, separating Donald from the other two Caballeros after a lengthy time apart is more difficult than anticipated. 

That and...the second they step outside and Dewey suggests he and Webby go on a refreshing walk in the gardens, _ alone, _Donald just _ looks _at them.

Okay, so it wasn't Dewey's best work.

“Ohhh, boy,” Donald says lowly, and his exasperated tone is the death knell to all their plans. “Boys. Come here.”

“Whaaaat?” Dewey protests immediately, but he and his brothers heel-toe to Donald’s feet. Behind him, José and Panchito share a look, small smiles lifting at the corners of their mouths.

“What are you three up to?” Donald asks, eyes narrowed to slits. He bends down over them, a familiar ninety-degree angle of parental judgement. “Or should I say you _ four?” _He lifts an inquiring eyebrow towards Webby, who squeaks under its cutting edge.

“Nothing!” Louie says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Jeez, Uncle Donald, you know you’re the most suspicious duck on the planet?”

“And for good reason!” Donald snaps. “Uncle Scrooge has a laundry list of crazy people lined up to attack us at any moment, in case you haven’t noticed, and _ I’ve _got three conniving, scheming teenagers for nephews! I know you’re up to something, it’s all over your faces!”

“Ouch, Uncle Donald,” Dewey says, hand over his heart. “Your words can sting, y’know.” His smart aleck grin drops when he hears giggling from behind Uncle Donald.

“Ay, Donald’s got his hands full with these four, eh?” he hears Panchito whisper, snickering, and José tips back his rounded beak in a smirk. 

“Hey, enough from the peanut gallery back there!” Dewey says, in a second incensed. The laughter stops, met with three multi-colored pairs of lifted eyebrows.

“_Dewey!"_ Donald says, taken aback but not far enough away not to scold._ "_Don’t be rude! Or try to talk your way out of this! What’s going on? Why are you kids sneaking around?” He crosses his arms across the front of his chest. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, I’m not blind and you kids aren't very stealthy.”

“Okay, okay, so it’s just a little recon!” Dewey admits, and Louie facepalms. Huey looks heavenward as if he’s been cursed.

“Recon?” Donald echoes. In a moment, Donald is straightening up, shoulders slumping. “Phooey,” he mumbles, hand moving up to cover his eyes and knead his temples. “This is about Chito and Zé, isn’t it? I should have seen this coming.”

“Well! _ Well!”_ A beat of rambling and Louie goes red in the face as though fit to burst, before exploding in a shout. “_Of course _ it’s about freaking _ ‘Chito’ and ‘Zé’ _ ! You’re dating two random guys we’ve never met before who didn’t stick around when we _ first _ came into your life, so they’re just gonna break your heart and you’re gonna have to choose us over the life you actually want _ again!” _

The resulting silence is deafening, empty but the sound of Panchito and José rising immediately to their feet. Louie covers his eyes, mortified, and Huey and Dewey say nothing, for fear of exploding just as their brother had. The horrified look on Donald’s face is paralyzing, but in moments, it slides away.

“Louie,” Donald says, voice firm. Slowly, Donald bends a knee to get down on Louie’s level. Louie goes tense, waiting for the scolding of a lifetime, and stares when Donald opens his arms. “Come here.” 

Stiffly, Louie comes forward, and Donald closes his arms around him in a hug. A hand carding through the down on the back of his head sends him melting into his uncle’s embrace.

“Do you really think my life with you boys isn’t the one I actually want?” Donald asks quietly, his raspy voice suddenly thick.

“I-” Louie chokes on his words, burying himself into the familiar give of his uncle’s shirt. “No, but—”

“Louie,” Donald says gently. “Panchito and José didn’t leave because they didn’t want to deal with kids, and I wasn’t forced to choose you over them.” Louis sniffs, disbelieving, and Donald makes a consoling noise and lifts the boy’s chin. “Listen, kiddo. I...broke things off with _ them.” _

“_What? _” Huey, Dewey, and Webby all stare.

“It’s true!” Panchito speaks up from the back. “Your _ tio _took our hearts and totally stepped on them! He’s lucky we’re so forgiving!”

“Chito, don’t tease,” Zé huffs, shoving the rooster at his side as Donald makes an outraged little '_wack'_. “These babies are serious, they think we're gonna break Donal's heart.”

“Huey, Dewey,” Donald says, sighing, and reaches out an arm that’s not wrapped around Louie. “Come here.” Soon, their uncle’s arms are both full. “I’m sorry, boys. I should have explained my...history with the guys more before inviting them into your lives. To be honest...I was just happy to have reconnected with them again. I didn’t think about how you guys would handle it, and I should have.” Donald sighs heavily. “When we....lost your mom, and your Uncle Scrooge and I...drifted apart, I wasn’t in a good place. Not because of you,” he amends quickly, “but because...I just wasn’t the person I needed to be. I wanted to take care of you, but I wasn’t sure how to do that, and be a fair partner to Chito and Zé. Being in a relationship takes....full commitment. And I wasn’t sure I could do that anymore, because I wanted to commit fully to you three. When I broke things off with the guys, it wasn’t because I didn’t love them anymore, or because I felt _ obligated.” _He squeezes the boys in his arm, making them mumble feebly with complaints they don’t mean. “I just needed time. Time to learn how to be the best parent to you, and how to still be...myself, after your mom...” Donald trails off, and shakes his head. “I was just lucky to have two men in my life who understood what I needed, and gave it to me without burning bridges.”

“We were there, you know,” José says quietly. He and Panchito have walked closer, with the rooster putting a fond hand on their uncle’s shoulder. “When you three hatched. I’ve never seen Donal’ cry so much. I thought he was going to flood that little houseboat.”

“The three of you used to crawl after me with those little hands of yours reaching for my tail feathers,” Panchito says, chuckling. “I lost so many that year I thought they wouldn't grow back! You were little scamps then, just like you are now. Zé and I....we understood, when Donald told us he needed time. To be honest....we did too. We sort of...rushed into things, after Havana.” The rooster’s grin turns mischievous, and Donald reaches up to swat him. “And...losing your _ mama _ was hard on all of us. Della was practically our sister too, after a time. She threatened us within an inch of our lives when we showed up with Donald at the mansion, with him dishonorably discharged for leaving and us, well...”

“Looking like troublemakers seducing your Uncle into a life of unemployment,” José finishes. “She even used a real shovel.” He leans forward on his parasol, golden eyes gentle. “_Crianças. _ You must know...we love your _ tio _ very much. Even when he isn’t _ with _us. We are just lucky to have found him again.”

“Zé,” Donald says, voice soft. “Come on...”

“And we will never do anything to hurt him, okay?” Panchito adds, bending down equally low to meet each triplet in the eyes. He reaches out a hand to place on Webby’s shoulder.

“...Promise?” Huey asks quietly from under Donald’s chin. Donald huffs and kisses the top of his head, making him blush and mumble. 

“Cross our hearts, _ mijo.” _He and Zé lift their hands and cross their fingers across their chest together.

“...Good,” Dewey says eventually, first to work out from under his uncle’s fond grip. “Because if you did, we’d have to banish you both to the Shadow Realm.”

The two birds throw their head back and laugh just as Donald reaches out to playfully swipe a hand through Dewey’s hair.

“Oh, sweet little Dewey,” José says, wiping a tear from his eye. His beak curls into a mischievous grin. “What makes you think we haven’t already been there?”

The children gawp at them, and Donald furiously waves a hand at his partner.

“Zé! No magic stories until they’re older, we talked about this!”

“Fine, fine,” the macaw says, lifting his hands as immediately the children around them begin to yell in disagreement.

“You guys went to the _ Shadow Realm?” _

“Does this have to do with those sorceresses? TELL ME ABOUT THE SORCERESSES.”

“José, can you do magic?!”

“Uncle Donald, what do you mean “when we’re older”? We saw a guy get swallowed by a crystal kraken last week!”

“Enough, enough, you kids are gonna kill me,” Donald complains, getting to his feet. Without announcement, he reaches a hand to curl around the arm of José and drag him close for a peck on the cheek, chuckling when Chito bats his eyelashes and leans in for his turn. “Now, which of you kids is gonna tell me why Launchpad won’t shut up about some superhero movie screenings?”

“Uhhhh,” Webby says, looking towards the ground in shame, and Dewey lifts his arms in sudden memory.

“Uncle Donald!” Dewey cries. “Launchpad has a _ boyfriend! _ A freaking boyfriend! _That he dates!"_

“Yes, Dewey, I know,” Donald says dryly.

“You _ know?” _ Dewey screeches. “How can you know? _ I _ didn’t know, and he says I’m his best friend!”

“Dewey,” Donald says tiredly. “Did you ever _ ask?” _

Dewey freezes with his mouth open, finger aloft. “I-” he stammers. The hand drops and Dewey shakes his head, stupefied. “_Why _would I ask him a thing like that?”

“Have you ever asked him _ anything _about his personal life?” Donald asks, lifting an eyebrow. “He’s not exactly a closed book, you know.” He rolls his eyes. “He won’t stop talking if you get him going.”

“Personal life?” Louie echoes. “Launchpad?”

“Louie, _ rude," _Donald chides, and beside him, José chuckles.

“It really is a treat to see them again, _ meu amor,” _ he says. “And to see you go all _ papi.” _Donald immediately turns beet red, but softens when José tugs at his hip. “We should have come to see you sooner.”

“It takes three to tango,” Donald says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should have reached out...when I knew I was ready. But...I wasn’t sure. That you guys would want me back, after all this time.” Donald’s eyes find the earth. “Eleven years is a long time.”

“A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough to turn our heart from you, _ mi amor,” _Panchito says, voice tender. “We talked about you with each other every day. You’re a part of us.”

Donald’s eyes look suspiciously bright. “I wrote you letters,” he blurts, voice thready. “Sort of. I have a scrapbook with pictures of the kids, and on some of the pages I would...write to you about them. I missed you guys so much.”

“You have to show us later,” José says, voice thick with emotion. “We would love to see them.” At his feet, Webby sniffs loudly.

“So sweet,” she whimpers. “You _ guys._”

“Okay, this is getting too much for me,” Louie says.

“I’ll say!” a voice calls from across the garden, volleying from one of the second story patio windows. “If I have to see another scene from a romantic drama in me backyard again, I’m going to exile you lot from the entire Manor!”

“Then stop watching!” Donald hollers back.

“_It’s _ my _ property!” _

“Uncle Scrooge!” Dewey bellows, cupping his hands to his beak. “Did you know Launchpad had a boyfriend!”

“Curse me kilts, lad, what the devil do I care about Launchpad’s romantic affairs? This house is turning into a blessed soap opera!” A beat. “And of course I _ knew, _he talks about him every day until me ears bleed! You already met the blasted fellow!”

“WHAT?”

“Launchpad met the lad on that wretched movie set! The one that exploded and cost me all that money! The actor! Oh, forget this gossip!” There’s the distant slam of a window as Dewey goes bug-eyed. 

“_Launchpad _ is dating the _ actor _ for the new _ Darkwing freaking Duck?!” _

“No way,” Huey breathes, covering his mouth to hide his grin.

“Ohhh my god,” Louie says, snickering. “Launchpad must have wished really, _ really _hard.”

“_Louie!”_

“What? It’s like if Huey grew up and scored a date with a dude playing a rebooted Gizmoduck.”

“LOUIE!” Huey shrieks. In a fit of sudden rage, he charges his brother and nails him in a tackle, and immediately, the yelling begins.

“Oh, boy,” Donald sighs, as he watches his boys all get pulled into a dirt-kicking, feather-pulling scrap, and for once, leans back on the partners hovering at both of his sides instead of stepping in.

“Just wait until they’re older,” Panchito jokes, leaning into Donald’s cheek. “Their romantic drama will make ours look like a Sunday night in.”

“Don’t remind me,” Donald says. He smiles softly. “But I’d be so lucky, if their stories were anything like ours.”

“Awww,” Chito says, going pink beneath the ruby of his feathers. “Such a romantic.”

“We love you, too, Donald,” José says, and together they step back and watch, fondly, as their children rip each other to shreds.

“Mr. McDee!” Launchpad yells from across the garden, his booming voice cutting over the sound of Webby’s war cry. “Can I have the night off?”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> hmu and tell me what you think @mein-gottlieb on tumblr, babies
> 
> also please let me know if you see any language goofs, ya girl isn't multi-lingual


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